As ridiculous as it seems, through all the pain and sweat and disappointment, I cannot bear the thought of leaving Roller Derby. I simply can't do it.
The truth is, I do love it. I absolutely love it.
Why? Why, when I spend every practice near tears? Why, when I can't even get through a warm up without feeling like a failure? When I have no hope of playing in a bout for a very long time and wouldn't know what to do if I were to find myself in one? When I am the only struggling new girl, which is a lonely position in which to find yourself?
I can't explain it. Some of it is what I was thinking yesterday. Being involved with Roller Derby, I feel like I'm a part of something special. Roller Derby is special. If you will permit me to be utterly corny, I will say it is magical. For some of us, the first time you see Roller Derby, you KNOW you want to be a part of it. There is nothing else like it.
It's a tough sport but it doesn't try to be a boys' sport. It's a sport for tough, feminine women and the two attributes are not mutually exclusive. Skate bags are packed with instant ice packs, skate tools and duct tape as well as with makeup, tampons and body glitter. Girls can be tough without being boys.
Speaking of skate bags, I love Derby gear. I love the skates, wheels, bearings, toe stops, pads, helmets. I haven't bought new shoes in three years, but I've bought one set of skates, three sets of wheels, two sets of bearings, two mouth guards, three sets of kneepads and two sets of elbow pads in the past five months. I have a lovely new hockey style helmet that I am saving to wear as a reward once I pass minim skills. Seriously, not to sound all girly, but Roller Derby has the best accessories. That's before you even start talking about tights and glitter and eyelashes.
I am very reserved for a long time with new people, so I haven't yet formed the lasting sisterhood type friendships that Derby forges. I believe that will come. Meanwhile, I really love being a part of this group. I like being with girls who don't mind smelling bad after a good practice. I like being part of a group that appreciates the aesthetic value of a good, loud pair of socks. I love how everyone seems so confident and together but once you get to know them you realize they are often fragile as well. It is this sport and this togetherness that brings out their strength.
I absolutely love the sound generated by 20 pairs of wheels grinding to a simultaneous halt.
So I'm sucking up my pride and returning to the track on Wednesday. Maybe nobody noticed.
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